<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>If I Needed Someone by essentialpolice</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26173000">If I Needed Someone</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/essentialpolice/pseuds/essentialpolice'>essentialpolice</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>In Which: Marco Spends Days with Shanks [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>One Piece</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Age Difference, Alcohol, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Denial of Feelings, Freeform, Lots of repressed feelings in this one, M/M, Rimming, Shameless Smut, Shanks has a bit too much to drink, Slight bigotry??, Sloppy Makeouts, Teasing, ass worship, dirty talking, i really wanted to make this drawn out but then i just wanted to have them fuck tbh, spit swapping</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 03:48:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,611</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26173000</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/essentialpolice/pseuds/essentialpolice</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Something that never got bites when I tried to roleplay it so I’m writing it. Underrated ship.</p><p>When Shanks comes to speak to Whitebeard, he ends up staying for a couple days on the ship—much to the dismay of the rest of the crew. Marco is the (un)lucky Commander that has to cohabitate with Akagami. They argue a bit at first, just get on each other’s nerves, until Shanks gets a little too inebriated at a party and Marco is stuck keeping an eye on him. Things escalate.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Akagami no Shanks | Red-Haired Shanks/Fushichou Marco | Phoenix Marco</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>In Which: Marco Spends Days with Shanks [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1900675</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>45</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>If I Needed Someone</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Disdain, annoyance, utter betrayal is what the Phoenix felt when Pops told him Akagami was going to be staying in his room with him. And he announced it in front of the rest of the crew! Despite being nearly ten years his senior, Marco was ready to throw his hands up and pout and sulk until the red head left the ship of his own accord. The rest of the crew barely wanted him there, they didn’t trust him. Why should they rent out their ship to another pirate? Did they look like some luxury vacation spot? </p><p>Shanks would clap a hand against Marco’s shoulder, patting him rather roughly as he stepped away from Pops. The latter would glare down at Marco, sending a chill down his spine. Hint received; he was not to question the directive vocally or at all. What he said went, and he was going to be peaceful towards Shanks. They didn’t want an all out war, now did they? The blond stared at his feet in disgust, shrugging off the hand touching his jacket. The rest of the crew jeered and hollered, claiming that Shanks was already taking a <em>liking </em>to Marco, and he’d better watch himself when he slept.</p><p>“So, roomie, plan on giving me the grand tour after you help me get all settled in?”</p><p>Marco scowled, causing the other to raise his singular arm up in the defensive.</p><p>”Now, now, I’m just playing. You don’t have to show me around. I’ll get someone else to do that. But you can’t leave a guy like me out to dry. At least make a bed for me.”</p><p>He could’ve tossed himself overboard. That would solve a whole world’s worth of problems.</p><p>The Commander had no choice but to oblige; begrudgingly dragging Shanks to his room, he’d point to a corner opposite his own bed. They could haul in a spare frame, if the other would like, or he could just make a nest of blankets and pillows for all he cared. This was going to be temporary, and the less Marco had to clean up at the end of it, the better. </p><hr/><p>It had been a day, and Shanks was already getting under his skin. There were always too many questions, always too much clinging to him. When he would turn away for just a moment, he would be right there when he turned back. None of the other crew members wanted to put up with him so Marco was his only form of guidance. He hated it. Shanks needed to get off the damn Moby and get this whole ordeal over with. As soon as possible.</p><p>There was a few hours of solace when the crew decided to party. Shanks loved any mention of free alcohol, the mooch, and had jumped up raring to go. Marco decided to sit this one out. This would be his alone time from the other. Finally, he could have his own room back, just for a little while.</p><p>When he hadn’t come back by midnight, Marco (dare he say) grew concerned. Had the other commanders done something to him? No, Pops would be throwing a fit. But still he felt it his duty to go and check, scouring the deck for any signs of the annoying swordsman.</p><p>Other members of the crew laid about, varying stages of intoxication taking hold. In the sea of bodies, he spotted one that looked so out of place, so foreign, that he knew it was Shanks. Approaching, arms folded, he tapped his foot on the deck. To put it bluntly, the Yonko looked like trash. Hair about his face, drool down his chin, bottle still clutched in his half-open palm.</p><p>”Akagami...you’ve had too much to drink.”</p><p>An arm went under his midsection, practically hoisting him up from his slouched position. A freshly-emptied bottle of sake clattered to the deck, droplets of the plum liquid splashing around inside. The man in question squinted at Marco, trying to shove away with his arm, regain balance of his own accord. Both of which failed: spectacularly so, and almost sent him toppling onto his ass.</p><p>”I’m...just fine. I’ve drank more than this, I just got a little tired is all...” His protest was slurred, barely coherent. To anyone listening it was clear that he was at least buzzed and it wasn’t going to relent anytime soon.</p><p>”Then if you’re tired, let’s get you back to the room, yoi.” A logical decision.</p><p>Not so logical to Shanks, who shook his head when Marco began walking with him. He wanted to continue partying; why should he stop when the others were still going? He could handle his liquor, he’d stayed awake for days on benders like none other. How had just a bit of sake thrown him so badly off the wagon?</p><p>Ah, the naive underestimation of Whitebeard’s liquor. The man himself had it made special. Considering the bastard was so old, it had to be made at a stronger by-volume to even touch him. Whether his liver was fried, or his tolerance shot (perhaps both, Marco pondered), he needed something that was double-strength and could kick like a mule. Most of the crew was accustomed to it, but anyone else who touched it was usually sick as a dog or out like a light. Thankfully Shanks had taken the latter approach. He couldn’t deal with vomit tonight.</p><p>”Hmph...you’re just gonna take me back, and you’re gonna start an argument with me.”</p><p>”Hey, hey, go back to taking your nap. When did you suddenly get the energy to talk?”</p><p>Marco couldn’t even get a blissful moment of silence around him. He babbled on and on, claiming Marco was being rude, no-fun, and a downright stickler. He’d just shove Shanks onto his bed when they got into the room, putting his palms to his forehead in frustration. </p><p>“You weren’t even drinking. Acting like you got a headache?” Shanks spoke from his pillow pile, rolling onto his side and slinging his arm over his stomach.</p><p>”I’ve had a damn headache since you came around, yoi. Now, do you want me to help you or not?”</p><p>”What do you mean help me?”</p><p>Marco stood from his bed, rolling up the sleeves of his jacket. His fingers lit in blue flames, and he touched the side of Shanks’ head. This got a surprised yelp out of the other—it didn’t hurt like he thought it would! It was rather relaxing and soothing, and...hey! He was losing his buzz!</p><p>“Knock that off! I still want to be drunk!” </p><p>Shanks swung a pillow at Marco, less coordination than he benefitted from with having one arm. Swords were easy, fluffy feather-filled weapons were not. The blond would recede, shrugging. What he had done would surely be enough and would take the edge off of Shanks. Hell, maybe it’d mellow him out too.</p><p>”You can thank me in the morning. I’ve done it a lot for Thatch, and he always wakes up without a headache. You might not, but that can be our little science experiment.”</p><p>Marco felt triumphant, accomplished. Shanks just laid there, feeling rather violated out of his alcoholic stupor. So, what was the logical thing to do? He reached to his back pocket, pulled out a flask, and began downing more liquor. Marco’s eyes did a double take, and he moved in to snatch the metallic container. It did no good, Shanks was more limber and rolled away.</p><p>”Give me that, right now. I’m not going to have you up my ass at 3AM, drunk and—“</p><p>”Oh, the First Division Commander has thought about me being up his ass?”</p><p>A slap across Shanks’ face. “Okay, maybe I deserved that, but my point still stands. Crew members getting to you? Worried I’m going to try to flirt with you or make a move?” Another swig. Another slap.</p><p>Marco bore his weight down on top of Shanks, arms desperately reaching for the reservoir before it got spilled across the sheets or the red-head drank it all. Either would be a bad outcome, and Shanks would have to deal with the aftermath. Marco still would be along for the ride.</p><p>”I’m warning you, yoi. This is the last time I’m going to warn you. Cap it and give it to me, you bastard.”</p><p>A shiver down the back of Shanks. He finally followed orders, slowly and tentatively, like a child not wanting to come inside for dinner; prolonging every moment and pushing the boundaries. It wouldn’t go into Marco’s hands, however, rather returned to his back pocket.</p><p>”There, big guy. It’s all tucked away, so you can get off of me now. Unless there’s something else you want?” </p><p>Marco moved in disgust. Absolutely not. No way.</p><p>”Just stay on your side of the room and we won’t have a problem tonight.” Marco was already bee lining back for his bed, when he felt a hand wrap around his wrist planted on the bed. Thinking Shanks was just trying to piss him off further, he would attempt to jerk away, only to be met with the feeling of a strong presence weighing him down. <em>Was the bastard trying to use his Haki?!</em></p><p>“C’mon, Marco. I know how you really feel.” </p><p>Shanks was close to his ear, tugging him back onto the blankets his one arm doing a surprisingly good job at bringing the muscled man down.</p><p>”You think I don’t know what the tough guy act is like? You’re worried about the ridicule, aren’t you?” A nip to his lobe, breath coming in hushed whispers to him.</p><p>”Afraid that I could <em>dominate you? </em>You look like a service top, too...a real <em>pillow princess. </em>Or maybe you’re just mad that a guy younger than you is stronger than your Pops...and you really do hate me.”</p><p>Marco had had enough; shoving Shanks off, glaring daggers at him. The Haki had lowered, but it was still at an omnipotent presence throughout the room. It rattled him to the core, even more than what Akagami had been saying. The worry about that had left him paying little mind to the lewd tirade that just occurred. </p><p>“You really think you have the right to speak to me like that? After Pops let you stay here, and I was forced to take you into my room—“</p><p>”You weren’t forced to do anything. You were well within your rights to say no, and you didn’t. You could have easily delegated me to one of the other commanders, and you know it. So why didn’t you? Do you just want me in your pants that badly?”</p><p>
  <em>”Shut up.”</em>
</p><p>Marco’s turn to grab Shanks, shoving him down against the bed. This was a rarer side to him, one that didn’t come out nearly as often. Although he could become angered, it never reached this fever-pitch of catastrophic and nuclear-impending-doom. His eyes darted frantically across Shanks’ features, looking for some sort of grin that showed this was just trying to get under his skin. Was he really that mad that he was partially right? No, he wasn’t thinking about <em>that </em>when they had allowed him to stay, but damn it if it hadn’t crossed his mind in passing. Years prior, not recently! There was no jovial nature to Shanks’ countenance, and with dismay, he knew all of the teasing and speech was coming seriously.</p><p>So when Shanks took his arm, slung it over Marco’s back, and drug him atop of him once again—did he really have room to react? His breath was hot, ragged, the alcohol from the flask tickling his nostrils. A sweet odor but enough to make him woozy in strength. Their lips came together, hard-pressed. It was momentary and lasted no more than a few seconds before Marco turned his face away. Shanks would not let that go unanswered for, grip of his hand slackening.</p><p>”There, you shut me up. Now if you’re not interested in my proposition...you’re than welcome to go lay in your bed and sulk. No skin off of my nose.”</p><p>Oh, no, he was. Very interested. Marco’s hips ground downwards, eliciting an <em>ungodly </em>noise of surprise from Shanks. He hadn’t been expecting Marco to play along, clearly—and the Phoenix grinding down on top of him as just the start. Fingers trailed down his side, pushing his jacket off one arm, then the next. Shanks halted him, sitting upright, catching his hand in the middle of his act. A wordless exchange, but they both knew who was still in control. With ease, Shanks took the sleeves of the jacket behind Marco’s back; an eyebrow was raised from Marco. But it would become clear what he was doing when, in a moment, Marco would try to move his arms only to find them tied back with the sleeves of the jacket. </p><p>
  <em>The bastard.</em>
</p><p>”Evens the playing field a little bit for us, don’t you think, Marco? Only so much that I can do with one arm...so having you bound like that is better than nothing. And you look absolutely <em>cute </em>straining your hands right now. Don’t worry, it won’t come undone easily.”</p><p>A low groan as Shanks began to grope his ass through his shorts, palming his skin, fingers surveying the flesh. In minutes, he’d have those aside and be touching bare skin—remarking on how smooth and supple his ass was. </p><p>“If you want me to stop, you can tell me. But with the way you’re squirming...I know you’re enjoying it.” For emphasis, a finger in between Marco’s ass; thankfully not penetrating him outright, but gliding down the crack and swell of his cheeks, all the way to his cock. There, Shanks was finally merciful and jerked his underwear down too. A loud exhale from Marco as his hand ghosted along the length, palm pressing his testicles and receding.</p><p>Figuring not to be so much of a service top, as Shanks implied earlier, he leaned forward in his lap, trying to kiss him. Shanks merely pulled away, both his face and his hand from his genitals. A low whine of dissatisfaction.</p><p>”Aw, did you want to kiss me?”</p><p>Instead of moving his mouth to his lips, Shanks adjusted Marco (gripping him by the ass, fingers dangerously close to his hole) so he was higher in his lap, face-to-face with his pectorals. His tongue lazily trailed a circle around his left nipple before encapsulating it within his warm mouth. Fingers kneaded the cheek in his hand, spanking him lightly, causing the blond to jerk forward against Shanks.</p><p>”You’re a jerk—“</p><p>Another soft smack, and Shanks stopped playing with his nipple. A frown, looking up at Marco’s flushed face. He wasn’t in the mood for him to start getting that mouthy during this, figuring it would’ve at least solved some of the problems between the two of them. Shouldn’t getting laid improve your mood? He’d let him slink lower into his lap, the two lip-level again. <em>Suppose if he’s going to shut up, I’d at least kiss him a bit.</em></p><p>Their tongues met first, even before their lips did. Shanks could appreciate a good effort. Marco, unceremoniously, proceeded to spit directly on top of the other’s...but joke’s on Marco, <em>that turns him on.</em> A new challenge; Shanks trying to snake his tongue into Marco’s mouth, dragging him closer, circling his hole with one finger to get him to comply. Once inside, he’d give him spit right back, and Marco just seemed to <em>swallow </em>it. Like a <em>good </em>bitch. Drool spilled past Marco’s chin, eyes lidded shut with hunger as he did his all to get friction on Akagami. Hips rocking, teetering, focusing on how hot and warm the other’s mouth felt.</p><p>They’d pull apart before long, but Shanks wouldn’t let Marco’s mouth go unoccupied, nor his ass for much longer. His game plan now was simple, it was just the execution that was going to be hard to pull off—</p><p>Flopping Marco off of him, onto his stomach, earned some shocked wiggling from the elder. Face against the pillows, he had no clue what was happening. The cold breeze of the room brushed against his bare ass and sent shivers down his spine. Shanks creaked off the bed, assuming a position behind him.</p><p>”You can’t fuck me raw, yoi! Even my Devil Fruit has it’s limits of what it can heal, and you destroying my ass—“ Marco had whipped himself into a frenzy, struggling against his clothing-restraint at this point.</p><p>”Calm down.” </p><p>Shanks kissed one of Marco’s cheeks, hand gripping the other and rolling it under the palm. If the blond didn’t realize what he was going to do, he was hopeless.</p><p>More kissing of his ass, chapped lips seeming to just glide over the soft skin. Did Marco have a moisturizing routine? For someone a decade his senior, fuck, he was soft. He couldn’t get enough. The way his muscled thighs met the underside of his cheeks drove him crazy, the way the muscles flexed and contorted with each kiss. Marco was struggling, he knew, to keep his stoic facade going. And he wanted, no, <em>needed him </em>to drop it.</p><p>”Fuck, Marco...who knew the First Division Commander had such a fantastic ass? It’s so fucking nice...I don’t think I’m going to be able to split you on my cock when I could spend all day kissing it...”</p><p>His lips moved downward towards his testicles, kissing there—finally getting a shudder from Marco, followed with an audible groan. But they would only remain there momentarily; after all, Shanks was so enamored with his ass. That needed all of his attention and love right now. A soft spank to the right cheek, then the left, teeth scraping skin and threatening to bruise the tanned surface. Rimming was going to be difficult with just one hand to spread <em>this much ass, </em>but he would make do. He’d start with going back to Marco’s balls, licking a stripe from testicle-to-taint, before prying his cheek aside and immediately going in for a nice, long lick there.</p><p>Marco gripped the sleeves that bound him, toes curling, eyes slamming shut. He was embarrassed that Shanks had his face in his ass, not something he had let anyone do—</p><p>The electric feeling of another lick, more hurried this time, jolted him from his thoughts. He couldn’t be anxious or nervous with the tenacity of Shanks, already desperately licking at his asshole, rolling his tongue in smooth circles. The sound of something uncapping startled him; and the following trickle of liquid made his whole body lock up.</p><p>Shanks was pouring the alcohol down and on his ass.</p><p>”What the fu—“</p><p>Any protests were cut off with a lascivious moan from the commander, Shanks finding a new rhythm. He couldn’t let good alcohol go to waste, and combined with a good ass, he was in fucking heaven. His tongue greedily circled over his hole, fingers prying his cheeks apart, trying to get in there as best as possible, lick up all of the residual drink that remained after the first few passes. His tongue was moving at a pace that Marco couldn’t fathom, and his moans now came freely, hips rocking back onto Shanks’ face. The Yonko didn’t care, he was enjoying the taste and submissiveness from the blond. Who cared if he couldn’t breathe for a few extra minutes? </p><p>The fingers on his cheek would dip inwards, one tentatively circling the hole alongside his tongue. Marco didn’t notice at first, and didn’t really care when he did. It was only when Shanks began to press it inward that pain seared through his spine, enhanced by the burning tinge of alcohol just having been present on his flesh. But he bit his lip and persevered, glad he did; Shanks immediately held it there, licking and kissing double-time, singing him songs of praise from behind.</p><p>”Oh, Marco. You’re doing so good—you’re letting me eat your ass and finger it at the same time like a good boy. Mph, you sure know how to make a man happy-“ A slower, reinforcing lick to Marco’s ass, making him see stars.</p><p>”You take it like such a good slut. You’re rocking those hips back, pressing your plump ass against my face...<em>god, Marco. </em>Is this what you wanted from me, hm? Is this why you’ve been so <em>rude?” </em>A forceful, more malicious push of his finger inside, swirling it around, and then another would soon join alongside it. Marco’s forehead beaded in sweat, the only thing keeping him from screaming was biting a pillow beneath him.</p><p>”Fuck, Shanks—“</p><p>An impatient push of his fingers inside as Shanks stopped his licking briefly.</p><p>”No, right now you’re going to call me <em>Captain.”</em></p><p>If Shanks wasn’t two-fingers in his ass, and in control of any orgasms he had tonight, Marco would’ve busted out laughing at that one. Captain?! Is that really what he wanted to be called? When the blond could call him anything: master, daddy...</p><p>Another forceful push of fingers, this time grazing his prostate and finally getting a noise out of him. Not the one that Shanks wanted to hear, but now he knew the place he could use and abuse inside of Marco.</p><p>”I’m waiting.”</p><p>”Yeah...C-captain. I’ve been thinking about you dominating me like this, even though I’m older than you. I’ve been thinking about us fucking in here ever since Pops told me you had to stay with me—“ A shamed blush spread across Marco’s face. Shanks grinned.</p><p>”Yeah...? You into younger guys having power over you? You’re not exactly the weakest guy either, Marco...so that’s pretty hard to do.”</p><p>Shanks felt triumphant, knowing he was one of the few people that could fill Marco’s niche fantasy. And fuck, was he going to <em>fill it.</em></p><p>He’d pull back from his ass, withdrawing his fingers and taking time to remove his own shorts. Marco would gulp audibly, garnering a chuckle from Shanks.</p><p>”That nervous? Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle, at first...” He began to line his cock up with his ass, when Marco stopped him, flipping onto his side. “You better have a damn good reason for doing that, and make it convincing.”</p><p>”I want to sit in your lap while you fuck me with it—“</p><p>Reason accepted. Shanks sat back on the bed, hoisting the Phoenix into his lap. He’d allow Marco to adjust himself, align himself, and eventually slowly lower himself over his cock. Harder than it looked when your arms were bound and your lover only had one to work with.</p><p>Shanks would bridge the gap between the two of them, thrusting up into Marco, finally penetrating his stretched hole. It still wasn’t enough for the cock forcing its way inside of him, so he had to grit his teeth and bare it. This didn’t go unnoticed by Shanks—who kissed along his collarbone, whispering hushed encouragements.</p><p>”You’ve already done so good...I want to make you feel even better. I’ll even let you cum as early as you want. You don’t have to hold it back for me. Just ride that cute ass of yours up and down my cock—“</p><p>And Marco started, slamming his hips all the way down, and then back up again. Both men exhaled sharply, Shanks digging his fingers into a shoulder, a thigh, and then finally his ass. He wished he could feel him with both hands—damn losing one—but this would do. Every muscle in Marco’s body seemed to flex as he impaled himself on the Yonko’s dick, freely moaning and grinding now, unashamed and every thrust sending him teetering closer to depravity. Sweat beaded on his forehead, splashing onto Shanks’ midsection. Neither cared. </p><p>“You’re making me feel so good, Marco. Your ass is—”</p><p>”Perfect? You’ve said, <em>Captain.” </em>The word was pointed, and Marco leaned closer to Shanks, demonstrating just how much he could do with no hands available to him. Shanks spluttered, for once, wordless, and Marco was proud of himself for catching him off guard. “Does Captain Shanks like my ass? Does he like being...” a rough downward thrust, sheathing Shanks fully inside of him, “balls deep inside some Commander bitch?”</p><p>Shanks lost it there; biting roughly to the side of Marco’s neck, his own hips beginning to move, roughly fucking up into Marco. A choked groan from his service top, not realizing what kind of beast he had stirred within the other. Marco degrading himself was just the icing on the cake, and he was going to get filled up for that.</p><p>”You’re <em>my </em>Commander-bitch, you got it? This fucking ass is mine. I’m everything you fantasize about, aren’t I? Tell me I am, Marco.”</p><p>Marco choked back a sobbing moan, his orgasm coming at him like a barreling train. Shanks fucking him like that was going to send him over the edge faster than anticipated, and he couldn’t keep this pace for much longer—</p><p>“Look at me when I’m talking to you, you slut. You love getting fucked raw by my Yonko dick, helpless against what I could <em>really </em>do to you. Don’t you?”</p><p>”I—“</p><p>Shanks would get frustrated, pushing Marco backwards, landing on top of him, spreading his legs wide. They’d readjust the position, before Shanks was once again all the way inside of him. The depth of the new position had Marco at the end of his rope, Shanks’ cock battering his prostate, cock bobbing wildly at the angle.</p><p>”Tell me, or I’ll stop right now.” That was not an empty threat.</p><p>”I fucking love it, Captain—it’s so fucking big, you’re splitting my ass wide open with it—“</p><p>”More.”</p><p>”I want your cum, I want a load of Yonko cum in my weak Commander ass—I’ve thought about this more than anything-“</p><p>Shanks hand would reach his dick, roughly stroking it, finally allowing Marco to get the sweet release he was craving. Shanks rolled his wrist expertly, flicking and tugging and making direct eye contact. Without words, Marco knew he was supposed to cum, then and there, and he did: covering his own chest with ropes of his semen, groaning aloud, praising Shanks, thanking him, begging him to fuck him until he came too.</p><p>And he did, minutes later; roughly jerking Marco the entire time, nearly bringing him to another (painful and dry) orgasm. The only relenting was when Shanks blew in his hole, filling him to the brim and then some.</p><p>They’d lay there, huffing and panting. Marco felt weird about the situation and-</p><p>Shanks began to untie him, the blond’s arms numb by now. He’d drag him onto his chest, rubbing his shoulders, his chest, kissing his forehead.</p><p>”You did so good Marco, thank you-“</p><p>”No, thank you, Akagami.”</p><p>”Just call me Shanks, will ya? Or Captain~”</p><p>A smack to his chest. Ow. He deserved that. Their breathing settled down, and one of them finally dared to breach the question. It was Marco.</p><p>”So, was this a one night stand, or...?” </p><p>Nervousness lined his voice. He felt like a kid asking their parent something. He felt used if it was-</p><p>“Whatever you want it to be. But I quite enjoyed your ass, and I’m still going to be here for a few more days...so not exactly a one night stand. Hm?”</p><p>Marco didn’t want to seem too eager, too optimistic or enthusiastic. </p><p>“Do it again sometime...<em>Captain? </em>I really can’t think of anyone else...”</p><p>A chuckle from Shanks. Ah, this is why Marco was so submissive. Older, but still needy.</p><p>”Of course. As long as you’ll have me.”</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>